


Passion and Satisfaction

by tveckling



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Canon Era, Dark Character, Dark fic, I am using the Hungarian musical's setting, M/M, Pyromaniac Mercutio, Revenge is all Benvolio thinks about, Serial killer Benvolio, Smut, There will be plenty of deaths both OCs and major characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 16:12:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8539762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: Mercutio soon pulled back slightly and licked his lips, and now Benvolio could read the maniacal gleam in his eyes, in the curve of his smile. "I always knew it," Mercutio whispered, and there was pure joy in his voice. "I always knew there was something different about you, something familiar that I could recognize. I never knew what—you were always so good at keeping your dark sides hidden—but now- now I finally know. You've surpassed all my expectations, Ben. Benvolio. Oh, Benvolio. How beautiful you are, how truly magnificent."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so big warning for everyone. Read the tags. When I say that this fic is dark, I mean it. This is the darkest thing I have ever written, and every word is dripping with how messed up it is.  
> There will be **death** , both graphic and not.  
> There will be **major character death** , don't know yet how graphic.  
> There will be **torture** , most likely pretty graphic.  
> There will be **smut** , most likely pretty graphic as well as kinky.
> 
> And the characters won't feel a moment of regret. Not one moment. 
> 
>  
> 
> **DON'T READ UNLESS YOU ARE OKAY WITH THESE THINGS. THIS IS A DARK STORY WITH MESSED UP CHARACTERS.**

Nobody in their right mind would simply walk around in the dark by themselves, no matter who they were. The whole city was ripe for fighting, at any place and any time, and it was common knowledge that you never went out at night without at least one friend to guard your back. There used to be lines drawn, areas where everyone agreed to keep their weapons sheathed, but they had gotten blurred and then forgotten. There were new rules, rules that every woman, man, and child knew, and one of them was to never wander alone.

The man gasping for breath beneath Benvolio's hand had been too drunk to remember that one important rule. It had been childishly easy to sneak up behind him, put a hand over his mouth, and stick a knife between his ribs. He was a Montague, an aging servant Benvolio remembered seeing tending to their gardens every now and then, but they weren't in Montague claimed territory. It wouldn't be hard to make it look like someone had found an easy victim to rob; all Benvolio would have to do was search through his pockets for anything possibly valuable.

He was already tentatively searching for pockets as he slowly lowered to body to the ground—he didn't want to make any noises. His knife was quickly cleaned against the man's shirt, but as he reached for the closest of the pockets Benvolio looked up, taking in his surroundings again, and froze. The beating of his heart was overwhelmingly loud in his ears and his breath was stuck in his throat.

Across from him, blocking the opening of the alleyway, Mercutio stared at him with an indecipherable expression. Benvolio was usually skilled at sorting out the myriad of emotions on Mercutio's face, but for the first time he found it impossible. How could he have missed that someone had seen him, that Mercutio had seen him? How long had he stood there? How much had he seen?

Benvolio opened his mouth, but could find no words. He had been so careful, chosen the perfect time and place, and he had watched to make sure no one was around. The deed had only taken a minute at most. How could he have missed Mercutio?

What would he do now? He couldn't be stopped, not when he had so much left, so many more to bring to justice—the whole accursed families of Capulet and Montague all shared the guilt, and they would all have to pay. Benvolio's parents wouldn't be able to rest, he wouldn't be able to rest, until he was done. And now someone had seen him, had seen him kill, had seen him bent over a body and pull out the knife used to kill them. There was only one solution; the witness had to die.

But it was Mercutio. Somewhere along the way he had actually wormed his way into Benvolio's heart, with all of his usual charming and tact less ways, and the thought of having to kill him hurt. No ordinary person would be anything but horrified by Benvolio's actions, but Mercutio was no ordinary person. Maybe if Benvolio asked him, begged him, he would stay quiet about it? If he only explained...

But in the end Mercutio was the Prince's nephew. Why wouldn't he simply say whatever he had to to get away from Benvolio, and then go straight to his uncle? The usual pranks and fighting was one thing, a murder was something else entirely. There was only one way to make sure the secret would stay safe.

But-

Before Benvolio had come to a decision Mercutio came to his, and as he moved forward—silently, still unreadable—Benvolio straightened and faced him. The knife was still in his hand, but he was hesitating, even as Mercutio came closer. Whatever he was expecting, however, fell short of what actually happened as Mercutio took hold of his face and kissed him. It was so far removed from the list of things Benvolio had thought would happen that he simply stood there with wide eyes, frozen to the core yet again.

Mercutio soon pulled back slightly and licked his lips, and now Benvolio could read the maniacal gleam in his eyes, in the curve of his smile. "I always knew it," Mercutio whispered, and there was pure joy in his voice. "I always knew there was something different about you, something familiar that I could recognize. I never knew what—you were always so good at keeping your dark sides hidden—but now- now I finally know. You've surpassed all my expectations, Ben. Benvolio. Oh, Benvolio. How beautiful you are, how truly magnificent."

Benvolio blinked and opened his mouth, but Mercutio put a finger over his lips.

"I saw it all," he continued, "How you followed that poor bastard, how you walked behind him waiting for the right moment, and then when you moved in for the kill. The ease with which you ended his life, Benvolio, I've never seen anything like it. I want to see it again."

"You- what are you saying? Do you even understand what happened here?" Benvolio shook his head, trying to get at least one clear thought in his mind. Mercutio's kiss, and then his words, the intensity of it all, had unbalanced him and he wasn't sure what was going on any longer. He needed plans, needed to think, needed to gather all the newly discovered pieces before he made a decision.

Mercutio snorted and looked at Benvolio like he was being obtuse. "What do you need me to do to prove that I am fully aware of what's going on? Should I go look for another victim, bring them here and kill them in front of your eyes? Would that dissolve any doubt you have? I would rather watch you kill them, but I'd do it in a heartbeat for you," he breathed out and his voice, his look, his words made Benvolio shiver. "Or, if you like, I can show you in another way. I trust you are familiar with the fire in Costello's warehouse? And the Marino store, the Giordano estate, the Mazzi, the Belusci?"

"Those happened this summer, of course I remember them," Benvolio answered. He was already guessing where Mercutio was going with mentioning the fires, and the possibility had awakened something wild and hungry in him. He needed to hear Mercutio's words.

"There are many more, of course, but those five, those are the latest. It was hard to get the fire going on the Giordano estate, but when it woke up it was so beautiful, so wild and chaotic and free—it was worth every bit of effort. For you, my dearest Benvolio, I will paint another place in flames tonight. You just need to tell me which one, and I will show you the wild fire that cannot truly be shackled."

Benvolio breathed out shakily and swallowed to wet his dry mouth. The knife in his hand went back into its scabbard, and then he pushed Mercutio up against the wall and kissed him. Mercutio smiled against his lips and soon his hands were twisted into Benvolio's hair, carding through the strands at one moment and pulling harshly the next. Benvolio only smiled back and pushed his body harder against Mercutio's, caressing every bit of skin he could reach.

He had never felt like he did right then, free and uninhibited. For the first time someone knew about him, knew about his true self, and instead of recoiling in horror they accepted it all—not only that, they were just like him. In Mercutio was a kindred spirit, and Benvolio remembered the words about sensing familiarity. There must have been some truth in those words, because hadn't Benvolio himself always felt so comfortable with Mercutio? He had always been drawn to the other man, even when they were children, in a way he had never been with anyone else.

It took most of his willpower to step back from Mercutio, especially when Mercutio whined and tried to pull him back, but Benvolio shook his head to clear it. They were still in the company of a dead body, which also had to be prepared according to Benvolio's plan. He had to take care of it, before someone else, someone who wouldn't feel like Mercutio did, stumbled across them.

"Stop it," he muttered and rolled his eyes at Mercutio's pout. "I need to finish dealing with Bastiano. Or would you rather we get caught being intimate next to a corpse?"

Mercutio smiled languidly and shrugged. "The thought has a certain appeal, don't you think?" He sniggered at Benvolio's look and waved a hand. "Go on, if it's so important. I will happily watch."

Benvolio shook his head and crouched next to Bastiano's body, quickly ruffling through whatever pockets he could find. The old servant didn't have much, only a few coins, but Benvolio took them all. When done he took Mercutio's hand and pulled him out onto the street with brisk steps. They needed to get far away from the body without being seen, and quick.

Mercutio followed happily, holding Benvolio's hand tight in his. When Benvolio glanced back at him he was smiling cheerfully, but the intensity of his gaze burned into Benvolio and made him remember the warmth of their bodies pressed together. Maybe they didn't need to go the whole way back to the Montague estate or the palace; maybe they could just grab a room at some inconspicuous inn. They would be able to talk as well as let loose all their feelings.

When Benvolio steered his steps towards a public house he knew Mercutio squeezed his hand. He agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut comes here, intertwined with a new kind of dirty talk, as a friend put it so wonderfully.

The door was closed and bolted quickly, and then Benvolio was on Mercutio again, kissing him with the desire that had been mounting during their walk. Mercutio was warm beneath Benvolio's hands, his mouth hot as he opened it to let Benvolio in, and his breathless moans only kindled the flames in Benvolio's veins. There were too many clothes between them—any clothing was too much—and Benvolio broke the kiss to rectify it. He was too harsh, uncaring and impatient as he pulled at Mercutio's clothes, but Mercutio only smiled and let him.

When he finally had Mercutio's bare chest in front of him Benvolio paused to run his hands over every bit of skin he could see. Mercutio sighed and let his head fall backwards, and Benvolio watched him with bated breath as he raised his hands to follow the curve of Mercutio's shoulders up along his neck, settling around his throat. It would be so easy to squeeze, and it didn't take long to choke a man to death—Benvolio knew by experience. What would Mercutio do, he wondered and slowly tightened his grip. He could hear when Mercutio couldn't get air into his lungs any longer, he could feel the muscles tensing beneath his hands and see how Mercutio's hands jerked. Even so they stayed at his sides instead of trying to fight off Benvolio, and that realization hit Benvolio like a punch in his gut.

Hissing between clenched teeth Benvolio let go of Mercutio's throat, but before Mercutio had managed to take more than one desperate breath Benvolio pulled his head forward and claimed his mouth again, biting at his lips before pushing in his tongue to once again taste the inside of Mercutio's mouth. Mercutio raised his hands at that, pulling at Benvolio's shirt and then pushing at his pants instead. Neither of them wanted to break the kiss, Benvolio thought and smiled widely as he stroked Mercutio's neck. There would be marks there later, bruising from Benvolio's hands, and the thought made him have to step back and breathe.

Mercutio stood still, looking at him with dark eyes and labored breathing. He had accepted everything he has seen of Benvolio so far and everything Benvolio had done, and the thought was settling in that he might actually accept everything Benvolio had done. Everything he was planning to do. It was like a miracle, something that Benvolio had never imagined would happen, even at his loneliest. He was the worst sort of murderer, after all, and he had never thought there existed someone else who would see him at his worst and not flee.

"Tell me." Benvolio blinked as Mercutio wrapped his arms around his shoulders, leaning forward to brush his lips against Benvolio's ear. "Tell me everything."

Then, with a wink, Mercutio walked over to the bed, ridding himself of his remaining clothes as he did. As he sat down he smiled at Benvolio, raising an eyebrow. The smile widened as Benvolio threw off his shirt and followed him.

"My father and mother were Montagues, the Lord's brother and sister-in-law," Benvolio said, pushing lightly at Mercutio and watching as he lied down. "They died, cut down by Capulet blades. I was ten."

"I remember," Mercutio murmured and stroked Benvolio's arms, moving up to caress his cheek. "It was soon after I had been sent here."

"I was there, hidden away. I saw everything." Benvolio bent down and dragged his lips along Mercutio's neck, pressing kisses against his collarbone. "There was a servant with me, holding me back and holding her hand in front of my mouth so we wouldn't be discovered. It was an ambush, thought up by the Lady Capulet's late brother. From what I have heard it was to raise his position in the family."

Benvolio rose again and watched Mercutio like a hawk, not willing to miss the small gasp or flutter of eyelids when Benvolio reached down and grabbed his cock. He eased his grip quickly enough, and while he pressed soft kisses across Mercutio's face he moved his hand in what he hoped was a satisfying pace.

"It took me a few years, but eventually I felt ready to begin my revenge. I finally killed that servant when I was, hm, thirteen, I think. Pushed her down from the roof. I said that she had been up there to get me to come down but then she had stumbled and fallen. Everyone believed me of course, because why wouldn't they."

Mercutio scrunched his eyes shut and bit his lips with a groan as Benvolio scraped the head of his cock with his nail. Benvolio chuckled and kissed him deeply, savoring the moans that were released into his mouth. It was an amazing feeling, having Mercutio writhing beneath him as he told his story. He was lightheaded, and with each word that left his lips he could feel his heart grew lighter as well. Who could have known it would make him feel so much to simply tell someone else all that he had done?

"And ever since, for the past six years, I have watched and I have planned and I have killed them, one after one. Some died by other means, unfortunately, but as the end result was the same I never let those failures bother me too long."

Mercutio raked his nails down Benvolio's chest and chuckled at his groan. "So that man from earlier, was he involved too?"

Benvolio shook his head and bit Mercutio's lip, pulling at it and staring into his eyes. "He wasn't there. But he was a servant of the Montague, and part of the feud."

"And the feud is the reason- ah- is the reason anyone wanted to kill your parents." Mercutio grabbed Benvolio's shoulders and pulled him down, only to cling to him and shake.

Benvolio slowed his hand and nipped at Mercutio's jaw. "Exactly. So I'm not only after those that were there, that were part of the ambush, but also everyone who had any part in their deaths. The families who wage the feud. The citizens who never intervened. The prince and his guards who never punished them," he hissed with pure venom.

Mercutio laughed and before Benvolio could understand what was happening they had changed positions, with Mercutio lying on top of Benvolio. He was grinning wide, and the same maniacal gleam that Benvolio had seen earlier shone brightly in his eyes as he leaned down to trade kisses with Benvolio. His hips were moving wildly, and Benvolio felt like he would lose control at the feeling of Mercutio's cock rubbing against his own.

"I want to see them all burn," Mercutio whispered before he bit at Benvolio's earlobe. "Every last one of them. I want to see the fire spread and cover ever surface, and I want to see the whole of Verona as the flames lick her clean from everything there was on the surface." He closed his eyes with a shaky moan, his hand moving down to stroke his and Benvolio's cocks. His pace was much harsher than Benvolio's had been. "Can you imagine it? The light as every building in the city catches on fire, the flames that reaches the sky, the screams—because no one can escape the flames. The city will be painted bright red and yellow and black, and it will be so beautiful."

Benvolio could feel the tightening in the pit of his stomach, and so he pulled Mercutio's head to his and kissed him hard. There were no more thoughts of revenge or death in his head, all he could think of was Mercutio moaning into his mouth, Mercutio moving against him, Mercutio clutching at him as he began to shake again. Benvolio clung to him and let go, gasping into Mercutio's mouth as he came.

He was still trying to command his fingers to release their iron grip of Mercutio's shoulders when Mercutio came with a long moan, almost immediately flopping down bonelessly on top of Benvolio. Snorting Benvolio pushed at him, poking him in the side when pushing didn't make him move. Few people knew that Mercutio was ticklish. A sense of victory filled him when Mercutio squealed and moved away, rolling to lie next to Benvolio instead.

Benvolio only grinned at Mercutio's pout and pulled him closer, tucking his head into the crook of Mercutio's neck. After a few seconds Mercutio hugged him with with a sigh. They lied there in silence for a good while, breathing together and stroking patterns into each other's skins. Benvolio was feeling ready to close his eyes and sleep when Mercutio decided to speak.

"A part of me wants to keep you unharmed and safe forever, but the rest of me is thinking how pretty you would be, being painted by the flames. I think you would be the most beautiful of all."

Benvolio considered his words with a humm, then shrugged. "It's not the worst way to die. I have so much to do before that time comes, however, so you'll have to wait."

Mercutio hugged him even closer, and Benvolio could hear the smile in his voice. "I don't think that will be hard, because I know you won't let me get bored."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now you have reached the end of what I have written so far. I suppose that if you like it or are intrigued please comment, or send an ask or message on my tumblr (I have the same nickname as I do here). Have fun until next time~


End file.
